Free Ashes and Dust by Jeremy Bishop, David McAfee Page A

whispered.
    “Never tell me the odds,” Radar replied with lopsided grin.
    When Griffin shot him a look like he had lost his mind, Radar explained. “Han Solo. In the asteroid field.”
    Griffin sighed. “C’mon 3PO, let’s go.”
    “3PO?”
    “Yeah,” Griffin said, offering a smile of his own. “I’m obviously Han.” He pushed deeper into the woods unseen, thanks to a momentary reprieve in the attack. If they could get behind the station, they might be able to get through the back door. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step. As he rounded the back of Soucey’s Market, he got his first glimpse of the station.
    So much for the back door...

 
     
    15
     
    Turned out that Loomis’s death was just the beginning.
    While Dodge and Frost led the charge back to the edge of town, the four men accompanying them had the misfortune of being a few steps behind. And that was all the difference. Frost had heard a joke, about how the best defense against an attacking bear was being faster than your friends. Turns out the punchline worked with giant, fire-breathing reptiles, too.
    The man named Jarvis Brent walked into a wall of flame, as a lizard climbed out from a crevice beneath him. He emerged alit, stumbled over a rock and fell into the waiting jaws of a second lizard, which unleashed a torrent of flame as it shook him about.
    Matthew Silver simply lost his footing, fell forward and slammed his head on a jagged rock. The sickening crunch and limpness of his body confirmed his death before the lizards fell upon him.
    Anthony Grimm turned out to be the fastest of them, jack-rabbiting over and around the field of jagged stones, deadly gorges and writhing lizards. His substantial lead might be why he was targeted. Just fifty feet from where the earth fell away back to the border of Refuge, a spear fell from the sky, impaling the back of his neck, slipping four feet through his flesh. He fell forward, but the weapon lodged in the ground, holding him up at a forty-five degree angle. His body slowly slid down the long, smooth spear.
    Frost’s heart ached with each man’s death, some deep dark part of her thankful that she wouldn’t have to face their families afterwards. It was the same part of her that felt a surge of hope each time the horde of lizards slowed to fight over the most recently killed prey.
    She fired several rounds into a group of lizards closing in from the left. She’d lost her rifle when she struck her head, and now— click, click, click —the handgun ran dry. She holstered the weapon, focusing on running instead.
    “Oh my God,” Meeks shouted. “He’s coming! He’s coming!”
    She turned, knowing exactly who the ‘he’ was. She wished she’d never seen him. Those eyes. Familiar but not. The man closed in, slipping past the lizards barbequing Silver. Another spear was in the man’s hand.
    And then it wasn’t.
    Meeks turned around to fire, got off one wild shot and then clutched his gut as the spear pierced it.
    He twisted and fell to his knees, then glanced back at Frost, desperation in his eyes. “If you get home...all the way home...”
    He never got to finish. Another spear punched through his back. A mortal wound. The impact knocked him onto his side, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. But this time, Frost couldn’t continue on. She had no idea whether the man hunting them would be satiated with the kill or if he was set on murdering them all. So she decided to stand her ground.
    Her hand went for her gun, when she remembered it had no ammunition.
    The man leapt over a boulder, twenty feet away and closing. She watched as a fresh spear appeared in his hand. But it wasn’t magic. A bag hung from his waist, full of foot-long white rods. When he lifted one, it quickly extended in both directions, forming a double-pointed javelin.
    She lunged for Meeks’s weapon, an M-16, but it was strapped around his shoulders and clutched in a death grip.
    The man leapt at her, thrusting